Circus with the Yellow Clown, by Marc Chagall
via Magpie Tales
When she saw it, the old woman was instantly transfixed.
Ignorant of artistic movements, their values or their names, she simply fell in love.
She stared so hard and for so long, the painting transformed into a gateway her spirit traversed.
Her molecules, floated around and within
the canvas, the colors, the performers, the audience, the animals, the workers, the benches, the food - all, They dissolved and fused with theirs.
She ceased to be. Her being was everywhere, and nowhere.
Then she understood.
Everything melds - the artist, the viewer, the doer, the observer, you and me.
Not needing to possess it, she left. And was no longer afraid.
(Submitted to Magpie Tales.)